Bleach Bastardised

seitora

Well-Known Member
#51
The Sun shines on those whom help themselves.

Rain pelted down the windows where the sun would normally shine on the after-school martial arts class. She wasn’t a very feminine Shinigami at the best of times, and so felt no need to compare the depressing downpour outside to her current mood.

But wallowing in shame outdoors sounded good right about now.

Quickly, she dodged a kick that would have struck her in the sternum, before her left arm flew out to block a punch that went errant of its original target. Taking the opportunity to counter, she went for a quick jab that was in turn knocked back. Startled for a brief second at how she was so easily deflected, she moved back to avoid a nasty strike that could have left a bruise were she to have stood still.

“You’re not focusing today, I notice.”

Kiyone looked back up. “Sorry,” She apologised, “My heart’s not really in it today.”

Opposite her, Tetsuo Momohara stood up from his crouched position, showing his full height, only a few inches shy of the Latin-American-Japanese giant nicknamed Chad that Kiyone had earlier met. His fashion sense was poor, given that bandage that he wore on his forehead at all times, but having sparred with Kiyone on a routine basis for a few weeks now, he could easily detect her flagging motivation. “What’s wrong?” He probed at her.

Kiyone had actually been expecting questions of this sort for the past few days, and had derived a story based off the truth to cover for the funk she found herself in. “One of my friends in Kyoto was assaulted by a mugger some time ago, before I started school here.” She just about winced at how easygoing she still sounded, but didn’t let it rattle her.

The brown-haired karate practitioner raised an eyebrow, “That’s terrible! Did something happen to her again?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “No, actually, they caught the person who mugged her.”

“Oh,” was all Tetsuo had to say, as the silence repelled the two away from each other for a few choice minutes. Finally, he spoke again, “Bringing back bad memories?”

“Yes,” Kiyone admitted, and it was true, but hers was so much more personal, because she had stared Yoruichi in the face, and Yoruichi had stared back at her, and was this what Rukia had felt years ago when the treacherous captain had put her hand through her chest and squeezed, nearly destroying her soul chain as a result, and sentencing her to perpetuity in bed rest and virtual home arrest as she could no longer even walk out into Seireitei-

She shivered, and stopped her line of thought. Death was scary, but to cling to life without the same powers that gave you purpose in life? A morbid side of her was glad it wasn’t her. “Yes, it is,” She heard her body say, detached from her state of mind as she wrestled aside the witnessing of Yoruichi finally being arrested.

“Would you like to continue, then?” Tetsuo asked, and suddenly Kiyone found her worldly woes washing away as if the light rain outside was cleansing her, and she felt refreshed. With a nod, Tetsuo started lecturing. “Well, your form is decent, but too mechanical. That’s expected, though, since you’re used to one style and now you’re trying to learn something else. But,” And then he went off, correcting the way she had her elbow bent in the air, her balance of gravity, even up to how she had her palm clenched and her wrist rotated.

Hakuda had never been her forte in her brief interlude as a student of the Shinigami Academy. In actual fact, almost nobody specialised in it upon graduating, or even attempted to keep their skills from getting rusty: only those in the Second Division and the Omnitsukido offshoot ever really bothered with refining their abilities, and perhaps a few choice members of the Eleventh Division. Nobody she knew of in her own division really used it, including that asshole, and it would be useful if she was better than him in at least one skill. Soul King knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before she achieved the Bankai state.

But, she mused in between a couple of quick sparring bouts with Tetsuo, humans really were amazing. Perhaps it was because they were seven billion strong, and took inspiration from each other, while the Rukongai masses were unorganised and undisciplined, but they had far outstripped the Shinigami in their own diversity of martial arts, if not the sheer singular skill one could achieve through several centuries of practice. What Tetsuo was showing her now was ‘karate’, one of the largest schools of martial arts in the world, but still one of only hundreds, if not thousands. The Shinigami had a handful of styles, and that was that.

“Match to me,” Tetsuo said as he managed to strike her again, holding back the power in his blow as he did. “You’re improving, Kiyone. Good work,” He said this with a smile, and she found a burst of glee rising up inside her. The bandaged man would have gotten into another quick match with her, until suddenly a sound occurred in the background. Quickly, he perked up. “Ah, sorry Kiyone. I just got a text, gimme a minute here please.”

“Sure, not a problem,” Kiyone said as he ran over to the duffel bag where he had his regular clothes packed away. She needed the break, she thought, as with one hand she wiped away the sweat soaking her gigai body, while with her other hand she fanned her face, making her best attempt at cooling down without going outside. Even her gi was stained after a few hours of moderate work.

“And maybe...” She whispered to herself. And maybe, if a psychotic traitor captain of the Second Division ever was to attack her instead of her underling, she might stand a chance, if she too took care of her hand-to-hand skills.

“Hey, Kiyone?”

The blonde quickly looked up from her training outfit to look over at Tetsuo, standing at the opposite end of the room. “Huh? Yeah, what’s up, Tetsuo?” She asked with her Kyoto accent, honorifics thrown aside between the two after their first few meetings together.

The karate practictioner looked genuinely upset, and Kiyone knew what he was going to say before he ever said it, “Sorry, Kiyone, but something’s come up. I don’t have any problem with practicing and sparring some more again tomorrow, if that’s no problem. If you still want to stick around, I’m sure one of the other club members can help you out.” He made a motion with his thumb at a small scattering of the remaining karate club participants in the room, a near-even split between male and female.

Kiyone almost declined staying, the natural gossip in her curious to ask about what was taking Tetsuo away from his after-school hobby, and maybe even follow along. But then an image of her asshole lieutenant flashed in her mind, and she grit her teeth slightly. Stay it was, then. “Yeah, I’ll stay here for a while longer. I would love to match with you again, too. And, uh,” She nearly tripped over herself, as the niggling fact that she was, even though by all physical appearances still a teenager, over a century older than everybody else here, reared its ugly head in her stream of thought. Squashing it down, if only for a few seconds, she continued, “Ah, thanks for all your help so far, Tetsuo.”

Tetsuo smiled. It was truly a sunny smile. “It’s no problem.”



---

This was a truly painful snippet to read.
 

seitora

Well-Known Member
#52
The Sun shines on those whom help themselves.

Rain pelted down the windows where the sun would normally shine on the after-school martial arts class. She wasn’t a very feminine Shinigami at the best of times, and so felt no need to compare the depressing downpour outside to her current mood.

But wallowing in shame outdoors sounded good right about now.

Quickly, she dodged a kick that would have struck her in the sternum, before her left arm flew out to block a punch that went errant of its original target. Taking the opportunity to counter, she went for a quick jab that was in turn knocked back. Startled for a brief second at how she was so easily deflected, she moved back to avoid a nasty strike that could have left a bruise were she to have stood still.

“You’re not focusing today, I notice.”

Kiyone looked back up. “Sorry,” She apologised, “My heart’s not really in it today.”

Opposite her, Tetsuo Momohara stood up from his crouched position, showing his full height, only a few inches shy of the Latin-American-Japanese giant nicknamed Chad that Kiyone had earlier met. His fashion sense was poor, given that bandage that he wore on his forehead at all times, but having sparred with Kiyone on a routine basis for a few weeks now, he could easily detect her flagging motivation. “What’s wrong?” He probed at her.

Kiyone had actually been expecting questions of this sort for the past few days, and had derived a story based off the truth to cover for the funk she found herself in. “One of my friends in Kyoto was assaulted by a mugger some time ago, before I started school here.” She just about winced at how easygoing she still sounded, but didn’t let it rattle her.

The brown-haired karate practitioner raised an eyebrow, “That’s terrible! Did something happen to her again?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “No, actually, they caught the person who mugged her.”

“Oh,” was all Tetsuo had to say, as the silence repelled the two away from each other for a few choice minutes. Finally, he spoke again, “Bringing back bad memories?”

“Yes,” Kiyone admitted, and it was true, but hers was so much more personal, because she had stared Yoruichi in the face, and Yoruichi had stared back at her, and was this what Rukia had felt years ago when the treacherous captain had put her hand through her chest and squeezed, nearly destroying her soul chain as a result, and sentencing her to perpetuity in bed rest and virtual home arrest as she could no longer even walk out into Seireitei-

She shivered, and stopped her line of thought. Death was scary, but to cling to life without the same powers that gave you purpose in life? A morbid side of her was glad it wasn’t her. “Yes, it is,” She heard her body say, detached from her state of mind as she wrestled aside the witnessing of Yoruichi finally being arrested.

“Would you like to continue, then?” Tetsuo asked, and suddenly Kiyone found her worldly woes washing away as if the light rain outside was cleansing her, and she felt refreshed. With a nod, Tetsuo started lecturing. “Well, your form is decent, but too mechanical. That’s expected, though, since you’re used to one style and now you’re trying to learn something else. But,” And then he went off, correcting the way she had her elbow bent in the air, her balance of gravity, even up to how she had her palm clenched and her wrist rotated.

Hakuda had never been her forte in her brief interlude as a student of the Shinigami Academy. In actual fact, almost nobody specialised in it upon graduating, or even attempted to keep their skills from getting rusty: only those in the Second Division and its Onmitsukido counterpart ever really bothered with refining their abilities, and perhaps a few choice members of the Eleventh Division. Nobody she knew of in her own division really used it, including that asshole, and it would be useful if she was better than him in at least one skill. Soul King knew that it would be a long time, if ever, before she achieved the Bankai state.

But, she mused in between a couple of quick sparring bouts with Tetsuo, humans really were amazing. Perhaps it was because they were seven billion strong, and took inspiration from each other, while the Rukongai masses were unorganised and undisciplined, but they had far outstripped the Shinigami in their own diversity of martial arts, if not the sheer singular skill one could achieve through several centuries of practice. What Tetsuo was showing her now was ‘karate’, one of the largest schools of martial arts in the world, but still one of only hundreds, if not thousands. The Shinigami had a handful of styles, and that was that.

“Match to me,” Tetsuo said as he managed to strike her again, holding back the power in his blow as he did. “You’re improving, Kiyone. Good work,” He said this with a smile, and she found a burst of glee rising up inside her. The bandaged man would have gotten into another quick match with her, until suddenly a sound occurred in the background. Quickly, he perked up. “Ah, sorry Kiyone. I just got a text, gimme a minute here please.”

“Sure, not a problem,” Kiyone said as he ran over to the duffel bag where he had his regular clothes packed away, the dirty boots he always wore outside of the gym set next to it. She needed the break, she thought, as with one hand she wiped away the sweat soaking her gigai body, while with her other hand she fanned her face, making her best attempt at cooling down without going outside. Even her gi was stained after a few hours of moderate work.

“And maybe...” She whispered to herself. And maybe, if a psychotic traitor captain of the Second Division ever was to attack her instead of her underling, she might stand a chance, if she too took care of her hand-to-hand skills.

“Hey, Kiyone?”

The blonde quickly looked up from her training outfit to look over at Tetsuo, standing at the opposite end of the room. “Huh? Yeah, what’s up, Tetsuo?” She asked with her Kyoto accent, honorifics thrown aside between the two after their first few meetings together.

The karate practictioner looked genuinely upset, and Kiyone knew what he was going to say before he ever said it, “Sorry, Kiyone, but something’s come up. I don’t have any problem with practicing and sparring some more again tomorrow, if that’s no problem. If you still want to stick around, I’m sure one of the other club members can help you out.” He made a motion with his thumb at a small scattering of the remaining karate club participants in the room, a near-even split between male and female.

Kiyone almost declined staying, the natural gossip in her curious to ask about what was taking Tetsuo away from his after-school hobby, and maybe even follow along. But then an image of her asshole lieutenant flashed in her mind, and she grit her teeth slightly. Stay it was, then. “Yeah, I’ll stay here for a while longer. I would love to match with you again, too. And, uh,” She nearly tripped over herself, as the niggling fact that she was, even though by all physical appearances still a teenager, over a century older than everybody else here, reared its ugly head in her stream of thought. Squashing it down, if only for a few seconds, she continued, “Ah, thanks for all your help so far, Tetsuo.”

Tetsuo smiled. It was truly a sunny smile. “It’s no problem.”



---

This was a truly painful scene to write because while I have an idea of the next big story event, I have to write several things within to lead-up to it and I seem to torture each idea I come up with. I use Kiyone as a walking plot exposition device because, while she won't (necessarily) become that important plot-wise, she lets me subtly release some of the changes to canon I've made without info-dumping it.

Also to be noted, Kiyone never saw Yoruichi's attack, she only heard testimonials of it secondhand.
 

Knyght

The Collector
#53
Give me more, seitora. I want the story's meat.

seitora said:
only those in the Second Division and the Omnitsukido offshoot
Omnitsukido offshoot? I've no idea what this refers to.
 

seitora

Well-Known Member
#54
Well, for one, it isn't even spelled correctly. Two, I always like to think the Onmitsukido branched off the Second Division and eventually became its own separate thing, given that the two are usually led by the same person.
 

Knyght

The Collector
#55

seitora

Well-Known Member
#56
Fair enough, I changed it to 'counterpart' instead.

An update soon enough, sometimes after I rush out this Touhou story I've been working off-and-on :rip1:
 
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